Rewards of Virtue

 

Danae

 

Disclaimer: Not mine.  No money being made here…. Just having fun! 

 

Warnings/Notes:  Spoilers for S2 and TsbyBS.  Sequel to Wages of Sin.  This will make no sense at all if you don’t read that one first.  Crossover with my original characters.   Rated somewhere between PG-13 and R for violence and language. 

 

Thanks to my wonderful betas, Susn, Lorri, Catherin, and Debbie.  And to everyone who reads my stories and encourages me to keep writing!

 

Rewards of Virtue

 

 

Jesse Riviera stared at the wall across from him.  He hated waiting.  Mainly because waiting gave a person too much time to think.  He listened to the intercom system page yet another doctor to the ER and thought about everything that had happened.  Kit had left him behind when he took Blair to see Jim Ellison and Jess still wanted to strangle him for it.  Blair had been so angry when he—when he what?  He did not even know what to call it, but Blair had been in a catatonic state since they had rescued him from the military compound where he and Jim Ellison had been held.  Then he was just "back" and pissed off.  Jesse had had to get a damn cab, and by the time he got there, it was all over.  Not that he would have wanted to witness what Kit had described to him.  He would have just liked to have been there to support his friend.  He had gotten there just in time to see Blair come out of 852 Prospect and collapse on the sidewalk.  Pete and Kit were right behind him, and it was decided that maybe Blair needed to get checked out by a doctor.  Blair had a different opinion, but Pete overruled him.  They had come to a compromise when Blair said that he would see his doctor and no one else.  So now, they waited.  Kit was pacing, and Pete was on the pay phone.  Jess had no idea who he was talking to, but his boss looked concerned.

 

 

Dr. Orenda Milap frowned as she examined her patient.  "Well," she said finally, "you're malnourished and suffering from exhaustion.  You look like you've been through a meat grinder, but your x-rays are fine, and I don't see any sign of internal injury.  There are several drugs in your system, one of which I can't identify, which are probably adding to the feelings of fatigue you're experiencing.  When they get out of your system, you should feel a little better."  She shook her head.  "What am I going to do with you, Blair?  Sweetpea, you need to find a less dangerous line of work."

 

Blair gave her a sad smile then lowered his eyes to the floor once more. 

 

"Want to tell me why Jim's not with you and who those people are out there in the waiting room?"

 

"Not really, Orenda.  They're friends, though.  I don't feel like talking about it."

 

Orenda sighed.  "Okay.  Well, you're going to be sore from the bruises.  I want you go home and—"  She did not miss the wince at the word home.  "And sleep, a lot.  And eat.  You've lost a lot of weight.  You were thin to start with.  Now you look like one of those starving girls we see in magazines and on fashion runways.  Look at me."  He did not raise his head.  "Blair Sandburg, look at me."  He did.  "I don't know what's happened because you won't tell me, but I do know that it had to be pretty traumatic.  That man out there, the slick one, he gives me some pathetic story about line of duty, and I saw the press conference, but I know a smoke screen when I see one.  The fact that Jim is not here and you don't want him here worries me."

 

"I'm okay, Orenda.  Thanks for coming in to check on me.  Sorry I called you at home."

 

She rolled her eyes.  "Trying to change the subject?  Okay, I'll leave it alone.  But I need to see you in a week."

 

"I won't be here in a week, Orenda."

 

"And just where will you be?"  Orenda placed her hands on her hips and gave him her best withering gaze.

 

"Probably D.C.  I've taken a new job with the guy out there, the one you called the slick one."  There was almost a smile on Blair's face.

 

"Oh dear."

 

"I'll be okay."

 

"You'd better be.  I think I need to have a talk with that young man before you leave here with him."

 

Her young patient did smile then.  "I promise to be careful."

 

"Yes, you always do promise to be careful and then you end up right back here mere weeks later.  Blair, who is that man?"

 

"He's a friend, Orenda, I swear."

 

"You wait here," she ordered.  She stalked out of the exam room, and she could hear him calling her name, but she ignored him.  She walked out to the waiting room and headed straight for the men that had come in with Blair.  They all stood. 

 

"How's Blair?" one of them asked.

 

"He'll be all right with a lot of rest and some good food.  Now, I have a few questions.  Who are you?"

 

The slick one smiled at her and offered his hand.  "I'm Peter Devereaux.  This is Kit Chase and Jesse Riviera."  He indicated the two men with him in turn.  Orenda did not accept his hand.  He simply raised it to his short dark hair and ruffled it, blushing a little as he did. 

 

"Orenda is an Indian name, right?"

 

Orenda turned to glower at Kit Chase.  "Yes.  It is."

 

He smiled at her and she gave him the same look that she gave Blair whenever he tried a little misdirection to placate her.  He had the grace to look properly scolded.  "Thought so."

 

"Look, Blair is a favorite patient of mine.  I understand that he is leaving town with you.  Just what is this new job he's taking with you?"

 

"We're a private investigation and security consultation firm in D.C.  Blair is going to be our new—" the man paused, "researcher."

 

"Right."  She narrowed her eyes at him.  She was not as stupid as he obviously thought she was.  Not by a long shot.

 

"I can give you one of our cards."  He started digging in his coat pocket.

 

"No, that's quite all right."  She turned back to Kit Chase.  "You take care of him."

 

He blinked, but then nodded.  "Yes, ma'am."

 

"Fine.  I'll go sign his release."  She was still not happy, but it was out of her hands. 

 

 

"What was that about?" Pete asked Kit when the tiny doctor was gone. 

 

"She's a medicine woman."

 

"Kinda got that, Kit.  Doctor being the title in front of her name and all."

 

"Stop being dense, Pete.  You know what I'm talking about."

 

"Great, you're getting weird again." 

 

Kit only laughed at him. 

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were leaving the hospital.  Blair was silent as they drove to the airport.  Pete tried several times to engage him in conversation, but he would only nod or shake his head.  Finally, after a signal from Kit to give up, he stopped and concentrated on his driving.  Once at the airport, Pete turned in the rental car and picked up the tickets he had purchased while waiting for Blair at the hospital.  Now, they only had to relax in one of the airport's many little restaurants and wait for their boarding call.  They sat down and a waitress came over.  Kit ordered vegetable plates for himself and Blair, who did not seem inclined to talk to anyone.  Jesse ordered a cheeseburger and Pete ordered a double vodka straight up.  Kit gave him a sharp look, which he promptly ignored.  He needed that vodka.  He had a lot of thinking to do. 

 

He did not regret offering Blair a job.  He had no doubt that the man would be an asset to his company once he had some time to recover physically and emotionally from everything that had happened to him, but he wondered if Blair would be happy in his new job.  He took in the sad, sullen man across the table from him and sighed. 

 

Then there was the problem of Jim Ellison.  Jim was a mess.  Pete felt partially responsible.  After all, Jim's best friend was leaving town with him rather than trying to salvage their friendship.  Yet, he still did not regret the job offer.  Okay, that one was going in circles.   Moving on to his next problem.

 

Last but certainly not least, the more Pete thought about everything that had happened, the more convinced he was that their problems were not over.  Ron MacNamara was not the suicidal type.  The man had been afraid.  He had told Pete that he was not at the top of the ladder.  Ron had said that someone else was calling the shots and Pete had seen fear in his eyes.  He had ignored that fear at the time.  Ron was a coward in his best moments after all.  But looking back, Pete had to wonder if he had dismissed it too quickly.  Thing was, he now knew that the Pentagon and the CIA were unaware of some key points of the whole mess.  All of that added up to a third party involved, which meant anyone from a foreign government to any number of terrorist groups.  He had called Banks while they waited in the hospital and told the man of his suspicions.  Banks assured him he would pass the information on to Jim.  In the meantime, they were all in danger and they had no idea from who or where.  Yes, he needed that vodka.  In fact, he might need the whole bottle.

 

 

There were too many people, way too many people and not enough air.  He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.  Someone touched him and something hit the table in front of him.  He jumped and his eyes flew open.  The waitress had already moved away.  He looked down at the vegetable plate she had plopped in front of him and suddenly felt very ill.

 

"Bathroom," he choked out before he stumbled away from the table.  There were too many people in his way!  He shoved his way through them despite the fact that they seemed to try to keep him from his destination.  He slid as he rounded the corner, slamming into the door of the men's room and nearly falling through it.  He barely made it to the stall before the gagging started.  Unfortunately, there was not much on his stomach to vomit and he spent several agonizing minutes gagging and choking on the dry heaves.  He fell back onto the cold tile and a wet towel appeared in front of his face.  He looked up to see the shaman standing over him.  Kit was his name, he had learned.  Blair tried to smile, but he knew his attempt was not very successful.  Kit knelt beside him and grasped his shoulder.  "Sorry," Blair whispered.

 

Kit shook his head.  "No reason to be.  Okay now?"

 

"I think so." 

 

The man stood and offered Blair a hand.  He accepted it and let Kit do most of the work to pull him up.  It was then that he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors.  He let go of Kit's hand and moved toward his reflection.  One hand rose of its own accord to touch what was left of his hair.  It was stupid.  He had known that the hair was gone.  He could tell, after all.  This was the first time he had really had to look at it though.  His chest hurt as he grasped one short curl and pulled it out straight to look at the length.  The man in the mirror looked as if he was about to cry, but Blair ordered him not to; it was only hair.  Do not be so stupid, he ordered.  It does not matter, he told the stranger reflected back at him through the glass.  He almost had his reflection convinced when Kit spoke.

 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to stop them."

 

He was shaking suddenly and his knees felt weak.  "Damn it!  Just hair, damn it!  It doesn't matter!"  But his face was wet.  "It's not important!  It's over!  All over!  Get over it!" he screamed at the man in the mirror.  But the man in the mirror was not listening.  He had to make him listen.  He would make him listen.  Then there was glass everywhere and he was on the floor with Kit practically wrapped around him. 

 

"Let it go," the man whispered.  "I know it hurts, but you have to let it go, Blair.  You can't move on until you do.  You've faced it.  Now, you have to let it go."

 

"Everything okay?"  Pete was in the doorway and Blair tried to turn his head away.  His new boss was going to fire him for being nuts if he did not manage to pull himself together.  Then where would he go? 

 

Kit answered for him.  "He's okay.  Mirror's seen better days, but Blair will be just fine."

 

"Then I'll just find somebody and pay for the mirror."  Pete disappeared.

 

"Great.  I'm sorry.  Bet he's rethinking that job offer."

 

Kit laughed.  "Nah, it's okay.  He's used to it.  Hell, he's made a few messes of his own from time to time."

 

"What is wrong with me?!"  Now he was whining, and he hated that.

 

"You're just having a run of really bad days.  It'll get better."

 

"It's over with Jim.  God, that hurts, just to say it, you know?  He was my best friend!  The best friend I ever had.  Man, what does that say about my life?"

 

Kit finally let him go.  "You can't dwell on that."  Once again, Kit helped him up.

 

"I miss him already.  Is that crazy?"

 

"No."

 

"But I can't go back.  I can't.  Not now."

 

"Maybe later?"

 

"No.  How could I ever trust him again?"

 

"That's a question only you can answer."

 

"I know."

 

"Can you eat something now?"

 

Blair shrugged.  "Maybe."  Kit motioned for him to lead the way out of the bathroom.  He was nearly knocked down by a frantic man as he opened the door, however.

 

"Sir!  Are you all right?  I am so sorry about the state of the bathroom.  I can assure you that we do try to maintain a safe environment.  I can not apologize enough for your accident."

 

Blair was confused.  He looked back at Kit who was barely containing his laughter, then looked past the strange man to see Pete put a finger to his lips as a sign for him to go along with the story.  Blair glared at him.  Oddly enough, Peter Devereaux managed to look both pleased with himself and sheepishly guilty at the same time.

 

"I'm fine, sir.  Don't worry about it."

 

"Are you sure there's nothing I can get for you?  An ice pack?  Do you need to see a doctor?"

"I'm fine, really.  Accidents happen," Blair told him. 

 

"If you're sure?"

 

"Absolutely."

 

The man looked visibly relieved.  "Again, sir, I'm very sorry.  I will have someone in here immediately to clean this room."  He hurried away then.

 

"Let me guess.  You didn't have to pay for that mirror," Kit accused.

 

"Hey, I offered!"

 

"Yes, I'm sure you did." Kit shook his head.

 

"That was so wrong."  Blair frowned.

 

"Great, I've hired myself yet another conscience," Pete moaned as he gently pulled Blair out of the bathroom by his jacket.  "Let's go, Dudley Do-Right.  Let's eat and get the hell out of Dodge."

 

"Just how many drinks did you have while we were gone, Pete?" Kit asked as they made their way back to the table.

 

"A few, Mom."

 

Blair almost smiled but just as the corners of his mouth started to give in to the impulse, a stray thought chased it away.  He had walked away from his sentinel.  What would Jim do now?

 

 

"Dr. Rose, I must say that I am sorely disappointed in your lack of progress."  Robert listened to the man on the other end of the phone line.

 

"Mr. Baker, I assure you that I am doing my best for your organization here, but I am without a true guide for Alex."

 

"And the Jew is your only choice?  Surely, you can come up with someone else."

 

"I hate to tell you this, but Blair Sandburg is the only true, natural guide that I am aware of.  We have covered this before.  I realize where your organization stands regarding minorities, but if you want a fully functional sentinel then we need Sandburg.  At least until we are able to identify other guides."

 

"Then go find him.  I don't care how, but you get Barnes operational.  Or get me Ellison.  At least he's not some wild nutcase."

 

"I would still need Sandburg."  Robert rubbed his forehead.  Why had he gotten involved with this man and his militant organization?  Oh yes, money, a lot of money.  Still, it hardly seemed worth the risk and aggravation now as he tried to make the man look past his prejudices to accept what was necessary.

 

"Then do it, man, before I decide that you've become a liability and find someone who can get me results.  Need I remind you what happened to our friend, Ron?"

 

"No, sir."  One step forward, two steps back, Rose thought to himself.  He had finally gotten through to the man, on one hand.  On the other hand, the man was threatening to kill him.  Or rather have him killed.  He would never do his own dirty work.

 

"How is the other part of our venture going?"

 

"I can report some progress there, Mr. Baker."  For all the good it would do in the short run.  Right now, he needed a guide.

 

"Good.  If this works, Rose, the Freedom Coalition will have the means to secure a better future for all real Americans.  You have to do whatever is necessary to make sure it works."

 

"Yes, sir, I understand.  I just have to find Blair Sandburg.  He has apparently left Cascade." 

 

"Find Ellison.  Take him and Sandburg will come to you, right?  They are friends, are they not?"

 

"They were, Mr. Baker, but in our attempt to separate Sandburg from Ellison, we may have destroyed that."

 

"You are giving me excuses, Rose.  I hate excuses."  The man hung up on him.

 

Robert sighed.  "Fanatic," he muttered.  He did not happen to share the views of the Freedom Coalition, but Baker had been willing to fund his research.  All of his research.  The discovery of Alex Barnes had changed everything, as far as Robert was concerned.  They could have more than one sentinel to study.  With two sentinels, one male and one female, there was the potential to breed more sentinels.  With all that Blair Sandburg had learned, they could find or create more guides.  Holloway had been Max's idea, the old man still believing that the Army would be the sole benefactor of their work, but that had played right into Robert's hands.  Sandburg would be needed to salvage Barnes. 

 

Yet, when he presented his ideas, his government had been less than receptive.  They refused to sanction Robert's acquisition of Barnes and had wanted to pull the plug on the entire operation, but MacNamara had made arrangements for him to continue his work.  Robert was thankful for those select few that had things they had to hide and yet strings that they could pull.  He should have asked why MacNamara was so willing to help, but at the time, he had not cared.  Ron then brought in the Freedom Coalition and Baker's money to fund what the government would not.  Still, he had not cared.  Senile Max Adler and the very soldiers that guarded Robert's research were none the wiser to the real work that was going on.  He had free reign and all the money he could want.  At one time, that had been enough.  Now, he was not so sure.  After all, he could make more money if he could manage to get rid of the Freedom Coalition and go freelance with Alex once Sandburg got her functioning again.  That had been one of his original desires.  Problem was, he was firmly in the grasp of Baker and the Coalition, and Baker would kill him before he would let Robert walk away.  He rubbed his aching temples and sighed.  It would be complicated, but he would find a way.

 

 

One week later

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?"  Pete asked his newest employee. 

 

Blair Sandburg did not look at his face.  Instead, his focus was on the files that Pete held in his hands.  "I'm sure.  I want to know everything.  I need to know, Pete."

 

Pete nodded.  "Can I show you something else first?"

 

Blair rolled his eyes at him.  "Do you have to?"

 

"I'd like to."

 

"Fine."  It was more a sigh than a word.  "What is it?"

 

"Okay, I've been waiting to tell you this until I thought you could deal with it.  Now, I suppose since you're ready to deal with this stuff."  He indicated the files he held.  "Maybe you're ready for what I have to say."  He took a deep breath.  "All right, here goes.  Before MacNamara died, I cut a deal with him for my silence.  He gave me a substantial sum of money to keep my mouth shut about his part in your abduction."

 

"What?"  Blair looked appalled, and Pete started wishing he had waited for Kit to get back into the office before he started this.  Kit had a knack for smoothing ruffled feathers, and Pete had a feeling he was about to ruffle lots and lots of Blair's feathers.

 

He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out the bankbook.  He handed it to Blair.  "It was when we thought you might need at least semi-permanent care.  I took it for you, Blair.  Then when Senator Adams heard what had happened—"

 

"Your version, you mean?"

 

"Yes, my version.  He felt you deserved some compensation for your ordeal." 

 

Blair was staring at the book, but he had not opened it.  He shook his head suddenly and held the book out to Pete.  "I can't take it.  It's not right."

 

"The hell it's not!" Pete exclaimed.  "You listen to me, Blair Sandburg.  You deserve every dime of that money and more after what they did to you."

 

"It's blood money, sort of.  You know what I'm saying?"  He threw the book on the table when Pete did not take it.

 

"Yeah, and it was your blood, so it's your money!  Take it, Blair.  Pay off your student loans.  Use it to get your doctorate.  Blow it on fast women and good wine.  Who cares!  Just take it.  And there is one other thing.  I spoke to Senator Adams and he is more than willing to write you a recommendation to Georgetown University.  Think about it.  You could get your doctorate from Georgetown.  Wouldn't that just tweak the nose of the good Chancellor Edwards of Rainier?  Blair, I know that you say you want to work here, but why?"

 

"What do you mean why?"

 

"Why do you want to work here?  You want my theory?"

 

"Not really."

 

"Tough.  I'm the boss.  I get to spew my theories any time I want.  I think that you're here because you don't know where else to be.  Blair, this job is not that different from being a cop and I don't think that would have been your first choice of careers either.  In fact, our work is even more violent.  You'll still have to carry a gun and know how to use it.  You don't want that.  I've let this slide for a while because you've been learning the office and the computer systems, but it's time to move on from that.  I'm trying to give you options, Blair.  You can have your doctorate.  You can be an anthropologist again.  Or you can be a man of leisure.  Trust me, there's enough there to relax on for quite some time.  Or you can learn the trade here and work for me.  I just want the choice to be yours, freely, without reservation."

 

Blair sighed then gave him a half-smile.  He reached for the book and opened it hesitantly.  "Holy shit!"

 

Pete laughed.  "Dinner's on you tonight, right?"

 

"Funny.  I can’t believe you did this."

 

"Well, somebody had to do something.  So, are you pissed?"

 

"Not exactly.  Georgetown?"

 

"Yep, Georgetown.  I even think that I can speed things up for you—"

 

"No, thanks, but that's fine.  You've done enough already."

 

"How come you, Kit and Alex can all make that sound like an insult rather than a compliment?" Pete grinned at him.

 

"It's a gift.  Now, give me the files."

 

"Don't mince words, do you?"

 

"What would be the purpose of that?  Hand them over, Pete.  I'm not going to give up on this."

 

Pete placed the files down on the table in front of Blair.  "It's ugly.  I hope you're prepared for it.  I'll leave you alone for a while.  If you need me, I'll be in my office." 

 

Blair nodded, never taking his eyes off the folders.

 

Pete sighed and left him to it.

 

Three hours later, Blair closed the file that Alex Morrow had stolen from MacNamara's office and sat back in the chair.  He was not sure whether he wanted to cry, scream or laugh.  He scooped both folders up from the table and headed across the office lobby to Pete's door.  He knocked lightly then opened the door.  He peeked in.

 

"Come on in, Blair," Pete said, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

"I'm finished with these." He told him as he entered the office and walked over to Pete's desk to place them on one corner. 

 

"And?  Are you okay?"

 

"I don’t know.  I'm not sure.  It's all so confusing.  You know, Rose said I was handpicked.  They had a profile and all that.  At least that what he told me, but Pete, there is no profile.  Not really.  There's nothing in there that wouldn't apply to hundreds, thousands of people.  They wanted someone in the fields of Social Science, so he could understand the research.  They wanted someone young, so the person could be trained rather than retrained.  They wanted someone of above average to genius level intelligence.  The only reason it ended up being me was because I read Burton's research and was interested in the concept, and I just happened to live in the same town as Jim, which is pretty coincidental when you think about it.  Why would he want me to believe that I was handpicked from some 'special' profile?  It hardly seems important at all.  Wait, yes it does.  It was important that we believed that I was the one, possibly the only one, that fit.  It would obligate me.  It would obligate Jim. It would make me believe that I had to help because no one else could, and it would make Jim feel responsible for me."

 

Pete was nodding.  "Smart."

 

"Evil.  That's what it is.  But Adler hated me and didn't want me.  Guess Rose didn't plan on that.  Or hell, maybe he did.  Maybe once he found out about Alex, he intended for me to work with her and that other guy to work with Jim."

 

"I don't think Rose cared what happened to Jim, Blair.  He said that Adler and the Army could have Jim.  He was more interested in getting Barnes ready for MacNamara and whoever was backing him," Pete explained.

 

Blair frowned.  "And my grants and scholarships, over half of them came from Rose apparently.  That really sucks."

 

"Sorry."

 

So was Blair, but that was not what had hurt the most.  "Did you know Jim was planning on leaving?  There's a plane ticket in there."  He pointed to the folder.

 

"It's not what it looks like.  Jim had two safety deposit boxes, one for him and one for you.  They found his.  They didn't find yours.  He had separate ones in case they got to him before they got to you.  You could still get away."

 

"Then he didn't—he wasn't going to leave me behind?  Oh god, I was blaming him for it all.  But he didn't know about me, did he?  The file isn't clear on that, but he really didn't know."  Blair was stunned.  He had thought that Jim knew about the whole thing, that when his repressed memories came back, he had known that Blair had been chosen to be his guide. 

 

"No, Blair, he didn't."

 

"But he knew they were coming at some point, and he didn't tell me.  He should have told me!"  He knew he was practically shouting.

 

"I agree."

 

Blair held up his hands and took a deep breath.  "I'm not going to get into that now.  I'm putting that to the side right now."

 

"Okay."  There was a slight chuckle in Pete's voice.  Blair glared at him.  "Sorry," Pete said hurriedly.  "It's just that you sounded like Kit just then."

 

Blair forgave him and shrugged before continuing.  "And MacNamara.  That file is even worse!  A sentinel breeding program!  The guy was a monster."

 

"Blair, Rose was working for MacNamara.  They were in this together.  It's just that Rose's file is the cleaned-up for Adler's and the company's use version.  I have no doubt in my mind that Rose is going to use Alex Barnes to make him some little sentinels if he figures out a way.  I also know that if he manages to fix her senses and tighten the loose screws in her head, he'll use her skills on the black market."

 

"That's sick."

 

"Well, that's the lay of the land, my friend."

 

"We have to stop him."

 

"Yeah, I think we do.  I have some folks poking around for information on Rose but so far, no luck.  I'll let you know when I have something."

 

"Wait, you said something else.  You said, Adler's and the company's use version.  I thought the CIA was responsible."

 

"To a point.  But Blair, even the CIA would think twice before setting up a human breeding camp.  Senator Adams told me that they seemed a little too stunned when he confronted them with that file.  The old man is annoying as hell, but one reason he is so annoying is because he's a good judge of character.  He says the CIA higher-ups were unaware of that particular part of Ron's little scheme at least.  They knew about Jim and the project and ended up admitting to its questionable legality, but not the breeding thing.  They even seemed to think that you came along willingly.  They didn't seem to know that you were taken against your will.  And the Pentagon was even more unaware of what was going on.  Adler was crazy, a loose cannon.  He'd lost it and Rose took advantage of it.  I think Rose and MacNamara were working for somebody else.  It's the only thing that makes sense.  Ron was free and clear with me.  I wasn't going to hand him over to Adams because he agreed to help me.  So, the way I figure it, he was either too scared of his employers to give them a shot at him and offed himself or they offed him for caving to me and made it look like suicide.  Ron thought a little too highly of himself to commit suicide just because I kicked his ass at his own game.  No, Ron would have come after me and got his revenge or at least tried to.  We are not out of the woods yet, Blair."

 

Blair gathered up the files again and got up.

 

"Where are you going?" Pete asked him.

 

"To go through these one more time.  There's got to be something in here that will give them away.  Some little detail not hidden just right or something.  My first time through these, I was too busy being mad and—well, hurt to be objective.  This time, I'm going to find what they were hiding and then we are going to nail Rose's ass to the wall."  He turned and left then, vaguely aware of Pete's incredulous eyes and slack jaw as the man stared at him.

 

 

Simon Banks stood at his window, the one that looked out over the bullpen, and watched Jim Ellison.  Jim had returned to work that morning.  Simon had tried to dissuade him, but he was determined.  So far, he had shifted papers and files from one corner of his desk to the other several times, stared at his computer, taken a few calls and just generally looked lost.  Simon sighed.  He looked down at the file in his hand.  While it was true that he had wanted Jim to take a little more time for himself before he returned to work, he had finally determined that Jim needed something to do if he was going to be on duty.  It would, at least, occupy his mind.  Slapping the file against his leg, he made up his mind.  He strode out of his office, motioning to Joel Taggert as he made his way to Jim's desk.  "Jim, I have case for you.  Joel will be riding with you on this.  There's been a series of robberies, all high tech stuff.  A security officer was killed during the last one so it was kicked to us this morning.  I need you to head over to Watson Technology and see what you can find out." 

 

"Sure, Captain." He stood and reached for the file.

 

"Jim, are you sure you're ready?" Simon touched his arm.

 

"Yeah.  I need to do something, sir."

 

Simon nodded and relinquished the folder in his hand.  Joel was waiting quietly near the door to Simon's right.  Simon nodded to him and Joel returned the nod with a small smile.  Jim grabbed his coat and followed Joel out of the door of the bullpen, leaving his captain and friend to wonder if he was doing the right thing.  In the meantime, there was something he wanted to do.  Something that he had wanted to do for a week.  He turned and walked back into his office and picked up the phone.  He dialed the number and waited for someone at The Devereaux Agency to answer the phone.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he hung up the phone and sat back in his desk chair. Despite Devereaux's news that he was certain that there was a dangerous third party still out there to be dealt with, he had been somewhat encouraged by Devereaux's other news.  Blair was doing well, and he was thinking.  Devereaux had told him that Blair had gone through both Rose's and MacNamara's files and realized that Jim had not set him up.  Simon could only hope that this was the first step toward Blair forgiving Jim and coming home.  Yes, Jim had made a mistake or two, but, much to Simon's relief, he had not intentionally hurt Sandburg. 

 

Perhaps Blair only needed a little push.  Simon's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in thought.  Perhaps if Blair could be reminded that he had other friends in Cascade willing to help him, he would come on home and try to work things out with Jim.  He picked up the phone once again.  This time, when he hung up, he had reservations on a flight to Washington, D.C. in the morning, if one could call 4:40am morning.  He had stayed out of this quite long enough.  Blair was his friend and so was Jim.  Neither of them could be happy with the way things had ended.  Jim felt as if he did not have the right to search out Blair, so be it.  Simon, however, figured that he had every right.  After all, he cared for the kid, and he wanted his friend back.  That was right enough for Simon.  

 

 

Alex Morrow yawned as he walked into the office.  It was getting quite late and he had spent the entire day trying to hunt down information on Ron MacNamara's activities over the last several months.  He ran one hand through his dark hair.  Perhaps it was time for a haircut.  He had been wearing it a bit long lately but it was nearly touching his shoulders now.  That was a bit much.  Soon, he would look like Jesse and Kit.  Well, not like Kit.  The man wore his hair almost all the way down his back.  Alex shook his head and smiled to himself. 

 

He was just about to knock on his boss's door when he noticed Blair Sandburg in one of the other rooms.  Sandburg seemed completely engrossed in what he was reading.  Alex had met the younger man when he had picked up his co-workers and boss at the airport.  Alex saw in Blair Sandburg the same sadness and confusion that he had seen in Jim Ellison when he was here.  Yet, Sandburg was not content to sit back and let others deal with the problems.  He was like a man obsessed.  He had learned the computer system in less than a day.  He had absorbed every word that Pete had said, learned every aspect of the mundane operations of the agency in only a few days.  Then something strange happened. 

 

Pete started stalling.  Sandburg should have been turned over to one of the field operatives for training.  He had even volunteered to take Sandburg on.  Pete had looked horrified.  Alex would have been insulted had he not known that Sandburg had a phobia of guns.  He realized that Pete was worried that maybe Alex's brand of training would have been a little overwhelming.  But that did not explain why Pete was still dancing around the subject.  Both Jesse and Kit had offered to train him as well.  Jesse would probably be perfect in Alex's opinion.  Sandburg seemed to pick up the computer system so fast, after all.  At any rate, Sandburg was still puttering around the office most of the day, offering to do this or that for whomever was present, only to have Pete give him some trivial task. 

 

Now though, Sandburg seemed very intense and focused on what he was looking at, and Alex could not help but wonder what had him so enthralled.  He redirected his steps to the small conference room where the younger man sat.  "Hello," he greeted as he entered.

 

Sandburg jumped a little and jerked his eyes up to Alex's.  "Oh, hi Alex."

 

"I didn't mean to startle you."

 

"That's okay.  I wasn't paying attention."

 

"I could see that.  What are you looking at so hard?"

 

"The files about—well, Jim and me.  And Alex Barnes, too.  I'm trying to find some clue to where Rose might have gone and who might have been backing him besides the CIA and the Pentagon.  I mean, we have already determined that the vast majority of the Pentagon was oblivious, right?"

 

"Right."

 

"And we now know that the CIA was not aware of the breeding program."

 

"So they say."

 

"You think otherwise?"

 

Alex shrugged as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from Sandburg.  "I don't know.  I don’t put anything past governments anymore."  He leaned forward and reached for one of the files. "May I?"

 

"Sure, I could use all the help I could get.  Anyway, Pete thinks that they didn't know so he thinks that there's a third player and that that third player may be sheltering Rose and Barnes now."

 

"Okay, then let's see what we can find."

 

Two hours later, Sandburg shoved the open file away and put his head down on the table.  "There's nothing.  How can there be nothing?"

 

Alex sighed and closed the file in front of him.  "Maybe we aren't looking in the right places.  We've poured over every piece of paper in here."

 

"I guess I should have realized that they wouldn't have been careless enough to leave clues in here.  I mean, even MacNamara never mentions a name and this was his personal file!" Blair sat up and Alex saw anguish in the blue eyes that begged him silently to find some answer somewhere.

 

"Well, Pete thinks he was pretty scared of his employer.  He wouldn't finger them even on the threat of taking the fall himself when Pete confronted him.  He would make sure that his written records wouldn't give them away either.   Okay, perhaps we were asking too much to expect a name or blatant reference.  What if the reference is there but not in a form we can see?  We need Jesse."  Alex reached for the phone.

 

Sandburg stopped him before he could lift the receiver.  "Alex, it's after midnight.  Even Pete's gone home.  I guess it can wait until morning.  Let's go home.  Kit is probably getting worried about me by now."

 

"I doubt it.  Kit's probably not home himself yet.  Pete sent him to Baltimore to check out Rose's last employer.  He didn't tell you?"

 

"I didn't get to see him today.  Who was Rose's last employer?"

 

"Well, I use employer for lack of a better word.  Let's just say that he was getting quite a bit of money from these people for what his income tax records called contracted independent research.  Someplace called Millennium Research Foundation.  And if it didn't seem fishy enough, we are having a hell of a time trying to track down the actual owner.  Even Jesse couldn't find a clear trail, so Pete sent Kit to snoop around.  And Jess is still trying to get into their computer system.  It's closed up tight, though."

 

"Millennium Research?  Where have I heard that before?  Wait!"  He grabbed the discarded file and began to frantically search through it.  He snatched up one sheet of paper and waved it at Alex.  "Here it is!  I got a grant from them, two actually.  This may be it, Alex.  It's gotta be it!  Millennium Research."

 

"Good.  Then maybe Kit will bring us something back."

 

"Yeah, maybe."  Sandburg seemed to deflate then.

 

"You're tired.  I'll drive you to Kit's."

 

"Thanks." 

 

"No problem, it's on the way."

 

"I thought you lived out in the woods somewhere."

 

"I do when I can.  When I'm working, I have an apartment here in the city.  It's not as secure as I'd like. It's a locked building and has alarms, but I'd rather trust my own kind of security.  Of course, the other tenants wouldn't appreciate my idea of security very much."

 

Sandburg quirked an eyebrow at him but did not ask.  He just slipped his jacket on and followed Alex out of the office.  They were in the elevator heading down to the garage when Sandburg finally spoke again. 

 

"Would you teach me to handle a gun?  I'm not completely without experience.  I have fired a gun, you know.  I just need to get comfortable with it."

 

Alex smiled and met his eyes frankly.  "I can't teach you comfort.  What I can teach you is skill.  Perhaps with skill will come comfort.  Are you sure you're ready?"

 

"Gotta do it sometime.  Besides, maybe if I take the initiative, Pete will stop hovering over me like a mother hen."  There was almost a real smile on his face.

 

Alex laughed.  "Pete is a mother hen.  He does that to us all from time to time."

 

"Well, he's as bad as J—never mind."

 

"I met your Jim, you know?"

 

"He's not my Jim," Sandburg muttered bitterly.

 

"You know what I mean.  Anyway, he seemed like a fairly decent fellow.  A little slow on the uptake but not a bad sort."

 

"No, he's not a bad sort."

 

"You know, one of the drawbacks to being human is our enormous capacity for making mistakes.  Devastating mistakes, sometimes.  But one of our human virtues is that most of us have the capacity for forgiveness.  Some of us have more of a capacity than others.  Me?  I'm still working on mine.  What about you?"

 

Sandburg stared at him for a long moment before closing his eyes and swallowing hard.  When he opened his eyes again, he shrugged a little and said, "I guess I'm working on mine too."

 

"Good.  As long as we are working on it, we are making progress in our humanity, eh?"

 

"Yeah."  The rest of the trip was made in silence.

 

 

Kit checked the hallway for security guards.  Finding it empty, he rounded the corner and crept silently down the hallway of the Millennium Research Foundation.  It had been ridiculously easy to find and disable their security system.  Simply snipping a few wires disabled the alarms and the security cameras were scrambled.  The guards were reduced to patrolling the building while they tried to figure out what had happened to their video feed.  It would take them about fifteen minutes to figure out that it was not a simple outage.  It would take them another ten to fifteen minutes to actually get enough manpower together to launch a thorough search, so Kit figured he had about twenty to twenty five minutes to find something that might incriminate or vindicate the Foundation in Rose's activities. 

 

Even as he was stalking the halls, Jess was back in Washington trying to hack into the Foundation's computer system.  So far, he had had no luck.  It was very unusual for Jess to have a hard time getting into a computer system.  Apparently, the Foundation had spent more on computer security than on building security.  He picked a lock and slipped into an office, pulling out a small flashlight from his back pocket and flipping it on as he closed the door.  There was a desktop computer on the desk before him.  Maybe he could help Jesse out.  If he could find some sort of password then Jesse could do the rest.  He quickly searched the desk and the unlocked files cabinets behind it.  Nothing.  There were other locked cabinets by the window.  He picked the lock on one of them and searched through it.  Just as he was about to give up, he found a post-it note on the bottom of the last drawer.  "Thank God for forgetful people," he whispered.  He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Jesse's number.  He then grabbed a file and started flipping through it.  "Jesse, got a password.  Can't promise it'll get you far but all you need is a window, right?"  He frowned at the file he held in his hand.  "Cool.  The word is 'violets.'  Hey, Jess, I have this file in my hand about some study dealing with the effects of ecstasy on the senses of human subjects.  I think we may be on the right track here.  Study's not here though.  It's in San Francisco.  Means they have installations in other places.  I'll look for more here while you try to get in.  Good luck."  He hung up.  He grabbed a few more files, holding his flashlight in his mouth as he thumbed through them. 

 

He glanced at his watch.  About ten minutes left.  There did not seem to be anything in the files about Rose.  There was nothing else about research on human senses either.  He put the files back and had just decided to try to get into another office when his pager went off, vibrating against his side to let him know he had a call.  He grabbed it and shined his light on the display.  It was Jesse and there was a 911 attached to the message.  He clipped it back to his jeans and reached once again for the phone.  He called Jesse.  "What?" he asked when Jess answered.  His best friend sounded frantic.  He had to get out, right then.  Forget it all, just get out.  "Jesse, calm down.  I have a few minutes left.  Okay!  Okay, I'm going!  You have some explaining to do though."

 

He sighed and tucked the phone away then swiftly made his way out of the office and out of the building.  When he was off the grounds, he was calling Jesse back.  Obviously, Jess had gotten into the computer system and found something bad.  He wanted to know what.

 

 

The phone was ringing.  The fact snuck into his sleep-fogged brain.  Pete rolled over and grabbed the phone.  "Yeah?"

 

"Pete, we're fucked.  They traced me.  I don't even know how it happened but they know it was me." Jesse's announcement cleared his mind instantly.

 

"Do you know who they are?"

 

"Yeah and it's bad.  It's real bad."

 

"Tell me."

 

"The Freedom Coalition."

 

"Fuck!  Get out of there!  Where's Kit?  Is he out?"  Pete practically fell out of bed.  The Freedom Coalition was a paramilitary organization led by a very wealthy and very ruthless businessman named George Baker.  Pete had had a run-in with Baker before.  Baker had wanted to hire the agency until he saw Kit.  The resulting confrontation ended with Pete throwing the man out of his office and Kit threatening to kill the man if he ever saw him again.  The last thing he needed was for Kit to come face to face with Baker.  As it was, Baker's organization would be coming for them.  They needed to be elsewhere.

 

"Yeah.  I just got off the phone with him.  I didn't exactly tell him the truth, just that I had been traced and that it was big trouble.  He's on his way to Alex's cabin.  I suggest we join him.  All of us."

 

"Read my mind.  I'll call Maggie.  She's wanted to go to Paris.  Now would be a good time.  I'll call Alex and Blair, too.  Oh, shit!  And Jim.  Why did it have to be Baker!?  Tell me you're out of your apartment."

 

"Of course!  You think I'm stupid?"

 

"No! Sorry.  Meet you at Alex's cabin."

 

Pete hung up the phone.  Jesse was right.  It was bad.  Pete's worst fear had come to pass.  Baker's group was strong.  What was more, they had Baker's money and his contacts with several different governments and terrorist groups backing them.  Baker had clout. 

   

Pete grabbed the packed suitcase he kept for just this kind of situation out of the closet and threw it on the bed.  He grabbed up the phone again and called Maggie even as he tossed his clothes on.  As he listened to Maggie's phone ring, he let reality sink in.  They would have to take Baker down.  They had to find not just Rose and Barnes, but Baker as well.  First they had to regroup, however.  They could do that at Alex's.  The remote cabin was the safest option they had.

 

 

Jim staggered into the loft.  It was nearly five in the morning.  He just wanted to collapse into bed.  The stakeout, his first since returning to duty, had been long and boring.  By the end of it, he was questioning why he had volunteered for the thing in the first place.  Two steps into the loft and he remembered why.  The emptiness of the place seemed to try to swallow him up and make him just as empty.  He hated being here.  He sighed.  A shower or bed, he asked himself.  The shower would feel good, but his tired body convinced him that bed would feel better.  He started for the stairs, but as he passed the phone table, he noticed that the light was blinking on the answering machine.  Damn inconvenient things, answering machines, but he pushed the button anyway. 

 

"Jim, it's Pete.  Watch your back.  We found out who was really backing Rose.  It's the Freedom Coalition.  Sure you have heard of 'em.  Bad news.  Thing is, they traced us when Jess hacked into their computer system.  We're going underground for a bit.  Don't worry about Blair.  I'll take care of him.  You just take care of you.  We'll be in touch."  The call disconnected and Jim found that he was sitting on the bottom step leading to his bedroom.  The Freedom Coalition.  Yes, he had heard of them.  At one time, there was a rumor that their leader, George Baker, had tried to move in and absorb Kincaid's Sunrise Patriots when Kincaid went down the second time, but the Patriots resisted.  Several of them, the upper echelon of the organization, went missing in Seattle shortly thereafter.  No trace was ever found. 

 

Jim's first impulse was to go pack his bags and head to D.C., but he knew that Pete and the others, including Blair, would be long gone before he got there.  It took several minutes, but he finally squelched the impulse and resigned himself to waiting for Pete's next call.  In the meantime, he had to trust Pete Devereaux to take care of Blair.  That was not a good feeling.  He got up and headed up the stairs, though he doubted he would be getting any sleep now.

 

 

It was after five in the afternoon when Simon finally arrived in D.C.  Time zones really sucked sometimes.  He hailed a cab and gave the man the address of The Devereaux Agency.  Twenty minutes later, the cab pulled to a stop.  Up ahead, Simon could see fire trucks and police.  "Is there a way around this?"

 

"But sir, this is where you wanted to go.  That is the Markham building."

 

"The one that's on fire?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Well, that just damn figures."  He pulled a twenty and a five from his wallet and gave it to the man.  He got out of the cab and headed for the first person that seemed to have some authority.  He had come this far.  He was not going home empty handed.

 

 

Kit was staring at him again.  Pete had managed to avoid him since Kit had arrived at the cabin just after dawn.  He feigned sleep for a while and then took an extra long shower.  By then, Kit had fallen asleep, having traveled all night.  But now he was awake and sitting in Alex's living room, glaring at him.  Kit was pissed.  That was the only word that appropriately described the man.  He had not taken the news that Baker and the Freedom Coalition was behind this whole conspiracy well.  Pete almost chuckled, but stifled it in time to keep his head on his shoulders.  Kit would no doubt take it off for him if he thought Pete found anything at all amusing right now.  Not taken it well was the understatement of the year, however, so Pete was amused at his own gentle phrasing.  Pete glanced over his shoulder at the two men in the kitchen making lunch.  Alex would protect him, he hoped; Blair was a good peacemaker.  Well, it was time to brave the wrath of Kit Chase.

 

"I know you're angry with me," he said calmly.

 

"Angry with you?  Is that what you think?  Angry with you?  You have a gift for understatement."

 

Pete did not quite stop the chuckle that time, and he instantly regretted it.  Kit was on his feet and screaming before Pete managed to straighten his face.

 

"What the hell is so damn funny, Pete?!  You think this is funny?"

 

"No!" Pete held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  "This situation is not funny.  It's just that I was just thinking about my gift for understatement and then you said--- well, never mind.  Kit, I'm sorry."

 

"You should be.  I was there.  I could have found the bastard if you hadn't pulled the plug."

 

"I didn't pull the plug, exactly."

 

"You didn't?"

 

"No, Jess did.  They had tracked him.  He freaked.  He called me afterward."

 

"And this is your solution?  Hide in the woods?"

 

"Just to regroup.  Besides, you have been wanting to get Blair out of the city for whatever it is that you plan to teach him so here we are, out of the city."

 

"I want George Baker, Pete.  I want to take that bastard down."

 

"I know.  We will.  We don't have a choice, really.  It's him or us.  And it's gonna be him."

 

"I could have found him!" Kit spun and hit the wall behind him.

 

Pete grimaced.

 

"Hey!  I like that wall without holes, thank you!" Alex scolded from the kitchen.

 

"No, Kit, you could have gotten caught.  Then where would we be?  Jess said you only had a few minutes left before they would have started tracking you down.  Be patient.  We will finish this."

 

Pete watched as Kit closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.  When he opened his eyes again, he gave Pete an apologetic smile and shrugged.  "I hate that guy."

 

"I think the feeling's mutual, if that makes you feel better."  Pete laughed when his comment got a real smile out of his friend.

 

"Yeah, it does actually."

 

Jesse came storming into the cabin then.  "Damn it, Alex, why do you have to live out here in the boonies?  Pete, we aren't gonna get a signal out here.  The cell phones are useless.  I keep getting no service messages, no matter how I try to boost the power."

 

"Now you know why I never bother to bring my cell phone, don't you?"  Alex handed him a sandwich.

 

"Okay, that's not good."  Pete frowned then shook it off.  "But here's what we'll do.  Let's take a few days here.  Regroup, get some plans together, rest up, let Baker think he's got us on the run and then do whatever it is that we come up with—to do."

 

"You don't have a clue, do you?" Blair asked as he passed Pete a plate of sandwiches.

 

"No!  I have a clue.  I just don't have a plan.  But I will."  Pete took a sandwich and passed the plate to Kit.  "I will," he repeated softly, more to convince himself than the others.   

 

 

Okay, so he was wrong.  He was leaving empty-handed.  Simon had spent the rest of the day and well into the night trying to track down Peter Devereaux or anyone associated with the Devereaux Agency.  They were just simply gone.  He was not even able to find a home address for any of the men he had met.  The only good news he had gotten out of the trip was that the firemen did not find any human remains in the burned out office.  But that did not mean that Blair was not in trouble.  In fact, it meant that Blair was definitely in trouble, but what kind Simon did not know.  He had left his card with the D.C. police department and the investigator for the fire department with the request that they notify him if they found out anything. 

 

He did not relish the thought of having to tell Jim what he had found.  He boarded yet another red-eye flight that would take him back to Cascade with a heavy heart.  Jim was already an emotional wreck.  Now, he had to tell the man that his estranged best friend was missing and evidently, according to the investigator, there was foul play involved. 

 

Simon sighed as he folded himself, rather uncomfortably, into the coach class seat.  Of course, he was not obtuse enough to deny his own feelings of fear and loss.  Simon had long ago admitted to himself that he cared for Blair Sandburg.  He admired the young man, too.  No matter what life threw at Blair, he always seemed to land on his feet and managed to help a few others along the way.  Simon could only hope that Blair was going to land on his feet this time too.

 

The flight attendant was going over the emergency procedures, and though he had heard the words many, many times before, he focused his troubled mind on what she was saying so that maybe, just maybe, he could escape the feelings of doom building up in his chest.

 

 

He had lasted until lunch before he started searching for answers.  He figured that for him that was probably a record.  Unfortunately, at nine o'clock, Jim was still in the dark.  He had started with Pete's cell phone.  The recording informed him that the person he was trying to reach was not available.  He had left a message on the voicemail, but he had not gotten or really expected a response.  That would have been too easy.  Then he had tracked down Chad Ryan, but the FBI agent had not been able to tell him anything.  Well, that was not true.  He had told Jim about the fire that had destroyed the offices of The Devereaux Agency.  The news nearly sent Jim into a blind panic, but Ryan assured him that no one had died in the fire.  He had tried to get Pete's home number out of the agent, but Ryan had laughed at him and asked if he really thought Pete was at home waiting by the phone.  Jim shook his head.  It had been a stupid idea. 

 

After some thought, Jim had finally come to the conclusion that they had probably headed for the hills quite literally.  Morrow's cabin.  He remembered that Morrow had a remote cabin in the mountains that supposedly was hard to find and even harder to get to.  There was just one problem.  No one had ever mentioned what mountains the damn place was in.

 

Resigning himself to the fact that he was not going to find Blair right now, he decided to do some research on Baker and the Freedom Coalition.  He spent several hours going through not only Baker's own website, but also the information about Baker on other sites, both pro-Baker and anti-Baker.  He found out little that was new.  It seemed that if one knew one hate group, one pretty much knew them all.  The rhetoric was the same.  However, there was something on the League of Human Rights website that linked Baker with several prominent citizens, including a Republican Representative and several powerful CEO's.  Jim shook his head.  He made some notes and sent an email to Chad Ryan with the URL of the website.  He would have sent it to Pete, but he did not know when Pete would get it and besides, knowing Pete, he probably already knew.  He shut down the computer and sat back in his chair.

 

He glanced in the direction of his captain's office.  Simon had been a no-show, and Jim was a bit puzzled about that.  No one seemed to know where he was.  He wanted to talk to somebody, and with Simon gone, and Blair gone, there was no one for Jim to talk to.  Jim ran one hand over his face.  Of course, it would probably come as a shock to those who knew him best that he was actually willing to talk about his worries.  There was a time in his life when he would not have even entertained the thought of talking about his emotions with anyone.  It was Blair's fault that he was entertaining the thought now.  He felt a brief moment of anger at that.  How dare Blair make him open up his heart and then leave him without a friend to open it to.  But he squashed that anger.  It was his own fault.  He had driven his friend away. 

 

He had sat there long enough.  He was not accomplishing anything.  It was time to go home.  Sitting there, sifting through his head was just depressing him.  Then again, the empty loft was going to be just as depressing.  Maybe he would go out for a drink.  Or two.  Maybe he would just get sloppy drunk.  That was an idea.  He would drown those dark thoughts if it took him all night.  He grabbed his jacket and exited the bullpen.  O'Malley's Bar would be the best place.  O'Malley did not water his drinks.

 

It was three in the morning when he finally stepped out of O'Malley's to wait for the cab he had called.  Or rather, that the bartender had called for him.  Jim was drunk.  Seriously, completely, undeniably drunk.  He had not gotten this drunk since his early days in the military when he was still dumb enough to think it was cool.  Well, it was not cool now, but it was comfortable.  It was numbing.  His troubles seemed a world away now.  Blair would be furious though if he knew that Jim had gotten this drunk without someone there to help him with his senses if they got out of whack.  Wait, he thought.  He had forgotten for a moment.  There were no sentinel senses to get out of whack.  And no Blair to find out that he was drunk.  Okay, maybe Jim was not as numb as he thought.  There was some pain, right in the middle of his chest.

 

Suddenly, there was someone standing next to him.  He turned and looked into a familiar face.  It took him a minute to place it, and by the time he did, it was too late.  A new pain blossomed in his head, and he was falling.

 

 

The sunrise was awe-inspiring from the front porch of Alex's remote cabin.  Blair had been to the Smoky Mountains before when he was a teenager.  He had actually fallen in love with a beautiful Cherokee girl named Cecilia Lone Tree.  He shook his head.  That romance had not turned out the way he wanted.  He turned his thoughts back to the morning.  In no time, he stood mesmerized by the pastel rainbow horizon before him.  The air was crisp and scented with the clean smells of pine and morning dew.  His eyes drifted closed and he listened to the songs of the birds and the gentle rustling of leaves on the cool breeze.  It would be so easy to just let go and let the grandness of nature take him away from his troubles, if only for a while, but Kit would be out any minute now.  He had told Blair that they had work to do this morning.  He opened his eyes again, and the sky was already more blue and less rainbowed than it had been just moments before.  The blue had seeped into the pinks and yellows, completing the transformation from night to day.

 

"'So dawn goes down to day, nothing gold can stay,'" he whispered solemnly.

 

"That's Frost." Kit's voice startled him.

 

"Yeah," he said, turning to look at his new friend.

 

"I like that one."

 

"Not sure if I like it that much."  Blair shrugged.  "I just remember it.  It's about the loss of innocence, you know?"

 

"Yeah.  I guess that's a sore subject right now."

 

"What?"

 

"Loss of innocence."

 

Blair was aware of the bitterness that slipped into his laugh.  "I'm hardly innocent.  Naïve maybe.  Not innocent."

 

"Still.  It's a reminder."

 

"I guess."  He shrugged again.  "Anyway I like The Road Not Taken much better."

 

"It fits you."  Kit smiled at him.

 

He smiled back.  "I think it fits all of you better."

 

Kit laughed then.  "Maybe so.  Well, are you ready?"

 

"I think so."

 

"Good, come on."  Kit led the way down the steps.  "We're going to head out into the woods.  Watch me carefully.  We're going to have to get past Alex's little surprises again."

 

Blair nodded and followed him.  For several minutes, neither of them spoke.  Kit pointed out Alex's traps as they came upon them, but no words passed between them.  Finally, the silence was too much for Blair.  He had questions, and he had to ask them before he exploded.  "Where are we going exactly, and what are we going to do once we get there?"

 

"We are going to get in touch with Mother Earth, and then you are going to listen to what she has to tell you."

 

"Oooo-kay."

 

Kit grinned at his skepticism.  "You'll see.  I'm pretty sure you have done this before.  Probably all your life as a matter of fact, but you didn't know you were doing it and didn't understand the messages."

 

"You really do think that I'm a shaman?"  Blair shook his head.  "I don't think so.  I mean, Incacha said he passed the way of the shaman to me, but I don't feel it.  And Jim's the one with the visions.  I've had all of one vision, and I had to die to have it."

 

Kit was chuckling softly.  Blair was not amused, but he did not say anything.  He waited to a response.

 

"Blair, I know you're a shaman.  And nobody had to pass it to you.  You were born this way.  Okay, granted, some people can learn to touch the spiritual, but there has to be something inside that makes them receptive to it first.  And you are much more than just receptive to it, Blair.  There's power in you.  I can feel it.  I imagine this Incacha could too.  Let me guess, native guy, red face paint?"  Kit stopped walking and turned to face him.

 

"How'd you know that?"

 

"I saw him.  Led me to you.  Anyway, my granddad has a theory about all this.  He says that people born with the gift never fully let go of the spirit world when they are born into this one.  So they always walk a line between the physical world and the spirit paths, only having to step to one side or the other to walk in either.  You are one of those people.  Some people live their whole lives not understanding their natures and therefore never experience their own power.  Some people recognize it and learn to use it.  And some people use their power instinctively without ever learning to direct it or even having knowledge of it.  That's you, I think.  I was born with it, but I had to learn to use it.  I think you're going to have a much easier time of it than I did.  Truth be told, I didn't want it, and I resisted it for years.  Now you, well, given the fact that you have walked in the spirit world, all you have to do is understand and accept."

 

"You mean, dying, right?  When I died at the fountain?"

 

"Yeah, you walked in the spirit world and came back.  At some point, we all go through a rebirth.  For some of us, it's ritual, spiritual, whatever.  For you, it was an actual physical death and rebirth.  That's powerful, Blair."

 

"Understand and accept, huh?  Why do I have a feeling that that's going to be easier said than done?"  Blair frowned.

 

"That's up to you.  If you resist, it'll be hard.  If you let go, it'll happen before you know it.  This looks like a good spot."  He gestured around them at the small clearing that Blair only noticed with the gesture.

 

"What now?"

 

"Lie down."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Lie down.  Contact with the Earth will help."

 

"On the ground?"

 

"Uh, unless you can levitate, I think the ground is your only option and levitation would sort of defeat the purpose too."

 

Blair glared at him, but Kit only smirked in return.  Finally, after determining that he was not going to get out of it, he sat down and lay back.  The ground was cold, and it quickly sapped the warmth from his body.

 

"Close your eyes," Kit ordered.  Blair complied.  "Now, shut out everything but my voice and the wind.  Just listen to me and the wind."

 

"What about the birds?"

 

"No, shut them out.  Make them fade away."

 

"You sound like me talking to…"  The smile faded to a frown and Blair could not finish the sentence.

 

Kit ignored him and went on.  "In a minute, I'm going to stop talking.  When I do, you can slowly add the birds and any other sounds you can hear, acknowledge them as life, as living, then slowly turn your focus inward and hear your own body as it works, feel the life there.  Then focus down, below you, into the Earth.  Feel her, hear her and you'll understand."

 

Kit said nothing more so Blair stopped listening for him and tried to do what he said.  As he attempted to accomplish his task, he began to understand why it was so hard for Jim to control his senses.  He could not seem to get his ears to cooperate.  At first, everything was too loud and nearly broke his concentration.  Then when he tried to lower the volume, he lost too much.  He was getting frustrated.  He meditated all the time, for heaven's sake.  Why was it so hard all of a sudden?  Finally, he thought he had just right, everything in the right proportion.  It was not that different than what he had done on Alex's porch after all.

 

"Stop thinking.  Just feel and hear." Kit's voice nearly scared him into a heart attack.

 

He was right though.  Blair's mind was working too hard.  It was distracting him.  That was why it had been so difficult to achieve the meditative state he needed.  He was still doing it, too!  He sighed.  He tossed out the distracting thoughts and finally sank down into the meditation.

 

 

Kit watched the lines on his student's forehead smooth out and smiled to himself.  Now, he was getting somewhere.  Several minutes passed as Blair's breathing slowed and his body lost all its tension, slowing molding to the ground beneath it.  Kit wondered if Blair would have the same reaction he did when he had finally gotten this right.  Kit had nearly jumped out of his skin, and his grandfather had laughed his ass off at him.  He had been a little pissed at the old man at first, but later it was funny.  And it would be funny now if Blair reacted that way.  He ordered himself not to laugh, however.  He did not want to make Blair angry with him.  After all, they didn't have the bond of family to make forgiveness easy.  Or rather, easier.

 

He sat down a few feet away and waited for Blair to either fail or succeed.  He hoped he would succeed, but Kit himself had had to try this several times before he finally got it.  In fact, by the time he manage to complete this one simple exercise, he was ready to tell his grandfather that he was nuts.

 

He was so deep in thought that he jumped when Blair did.

 

"Holy shit!" Blair was on his feet suddenly and staring down at the ground with a look of horrified incredulousness on his face.  "Ah, man!"  His whole body shivered.

 

All Kit's good intentions went right out the window, and he burst into laughter.

 

Blair spun around to glare at him.  "Not funny, man!  So not funny!  You could have warned me."

 

Kit tried to straighten his face, but it was a lost cause.  "I couldn't tell you what to expect.  If you're expecting it, you'll convince yourself that you feel it when you don't."  He was still chuckling.

 

"I am so glad that I could provide you with your morning entertainment, man!"

 

Kit got up.  "Blair, I'm sorry."  He walked over and took Blair by the shoulders.  "Don't worry about it.  I did the same thing."

 

Blair sighed in exasperation and tried to pull away, but Kit would not let him.

 

"I'm serious!" Kit assured him.  "And what's more you did it a hell of lot faster than I did!  I had to try four times before I succeeded."

 

"Really?"

"Yes, really.  Now, tell me, what was it like?"  Kit let him go and stepped back to watch and listen.

 

"It was wild.  Fantastic, but scary as hell too."

 

"Go ahead," he coaxed.

 

"The ground wasn't cold anymore.  It was warm, and it felt like it was holding me.  Not me lying on it, but like being held gently like a baby with its mother."

 

"Yeah, just like that." Kit remembered the feeling.

 

"And it breathed and I could hear—it's crazy."

 

"You could hear a heartbeat."  It was not a question.  Kit knew; he remembered that too.

 

"Yeah.  The wolf was there and then he was me or I was him.  Both maybe.  I let him in and I felt so safe.  Loved."

 

"Then you understand.  We are all children of the Earth, but you have a connection to the Mother that most people don't have.  You have always had it but didn't feel it consciously.  Unconsciously, I think you did.  Now you're conscious of it, aren't you?  You can feel it."

 

"I do.  I really do."

 

"What do you feel?"

 

"A need to help, to heal, to teach.  I do feel somehow connected to something bigger."

 

"Exactly.  And, like I said, you've always had it.  You're just acknowledging it now."

 

"I want to learn more."  Blair was wide-eyed and looking almost feverish.

 

Kit laughed.  "I think you had better assimilate this first.  Come on, let's go find Alex.  Work with him for a while and when you don't look shell-shocked anymore, we'll try something else."

 

"Kit, shell-shocked probably wasn't the best phrasing there."

 

"Good point.  Sorry.  Just remember.  Relax.  You get all tense and jittery, you'll shoot your own foot or something, and Alex will laugh the whole time he's kicking your ass for it."

 

"Gee, that's comforting."

 

Kit threw an arm over Blair's shoulder.  "I speak from experience, my friend.  Only I shot him."

 

"You're kidding!"

 

Kit released him and started walking.  Blair followed. 

 

"Nope, just barely grazed his arm.  You should have seen the look on his face!  Of course, at the time, I imagine my own face was much worse.  I was horrified.  I was trying to apologize, beg forgiveness, and get the hell out of Dodge, and he was stalking me like some pissed off badger.  Then he just pounced on me.  He knocked me down and kicked me in the ass, flipped me over and then just burst out laughing.  I think I must have been yelling, but I couldn't tell you what I might have said.  Anyway, Pete ran up and checked on Alex who was shooing him off, saying that he was fine.  So then, Alex helped me up and even brushed me off.  I was still babbling about how sorry I was and Alex just looked at me with those eyes—you've seen those eyes, right?—And said, 'Get back over there, you little bastard.  And this time try hitting the fucking target, not your fucking teacher.'  And that was it.  Pete slapped a bandage on him and we continued.  To this day, he looks at me sometimes and says, 'you little bastard.'  We laugh and go on."

 

"You're all crazy."

 

Kit could not help but agree with that assessment.  "I know," he admitted.  "Welcome to the funny farm." 

 

 

Pete frowned as he pulled his rental car into the convenience store parking lot.  He had to get moving on some sort of plan, and he could not do that if he was completely cut off from civilization.  He pulled out his cell and turned it on.  The "no service" message blinked at him.  He turned it off.  It was worth a try.  He got out of the car and made his way over to the pay phone on the corner of little brick building.  He dug his calling card out of his pocket then thought better of it.  Chad would just have to deal with the collect call until Pete got this mess straightened out and could pay him back.  Jim would have to deal with it too.

 

He dialed Chad's number first, said his name at the appropriate time and waited.  But it was a machine that answered Chad's phone.  He swore and hung up.  He tried Chad's office next.  Voicemail.  He had to hang up again.  Jim was next.  He wanted to let the man know that Blair was safe.  He dialed and jumped through the hoops, but when the machine at Jim's place picked up, it was not Jim's voice he heard.  He struggled to listen over the recording that was announcing his call and realized that he was hearing Robert Rose's voice.  He could not make out what the man was saying.  "Fuck!"  He slammed the phone down and dug out the calling card again.  It was a risk, but apparently they were in trouble already.  Rose had Jim.  He dialed again, this time charging his card.

 

"Mr. Sandburg," the voice on the machine said, the tone patronizing, "if you are interested in seeing Jim Ellison ever again, you'll need to make arrangements to meet me.  The details of how to reach me are here in Jim's home.  I do hope to hear from you soon."

 

"Son of a bitch!"  He dropped the receiver and ran both hands over his face and through his hair.  "Okay, he never left the general area.  Couldn't have.  Okay.  Okay."  Pete's mind was racing.  He hung up the phone and paced before it.  "What now?  Send Kit and Jesse.  Yeah.  DON'T tell Blair.  Won't matter.  It's not that he'll let Jim go if Blair shows.  No, then he'll have them both back, just the way he wants.  Can't tell Blair.  See if Kit can find Jim and get him out of there.  Maybe send Alex, too.  Tell him kill 'em all and let Lucifer sort 'em out. Arrgh!"  A woman came out of the store then and stared at him.  "My life sucks," he told her.  "Be very glad you aren't me."  The woman hurried to her car.  "Wonderful, Peter, frighten the locals.  Smart."  He sighed.  "So much for clever planning."  He needed to call Simon Banks.  If the man did not know already, he needed to be told. 

 

 

Simon stared at Jim's empty desk.  Jim was late.  It was not that Simon was exactly in a hurry to share his information with Jim.  He was dreading it in fact, but it was not like Jim to be late either.  At least, not without calling.  Reluctantly, he picked up the phone and called the loft.  He heard the click of the answering machine and was about to hang up when he realized that the voice reaching his ear did not belong to Jim or Blair.  He listened to the message and hung up the phone slowly.  He sat there in shock for a split second before his training and his temper kicked in.  "Joel!" he yelled as he stood, flinging his chair back from the desk to smack the wall behind it.  "You're with me!  Henri, put out an APB on Jim.  Rafe, call Forensics, tell them to meet me at Jim's!"

 

He heard the chorus of exclamations but did not stop to address them.  They would figure it out.  Joel was behind him as he exited the bullpen. 

 

An hour later, Forensics had nothing, and Simon was staring at the phone number he found inside an envelope addressed to Blair.  He reached for his cell phone only to have it ring just as he touched it.  "Banks," he snapped.

 

"Captain Banks.  Thank God.  Do you know how long it took me to track you down?  I've been standing here freezing my ass off for over an hour."

 

"Devereaux?  That you?"

 

"Yes.  Listen, are you aware that Jim—"

 

"Has been kidnapped?  Yeah, I'm standing in his loft right now.  Where are you?  Where is Blair?  What the hell is going on?  Did you know your office blew up?"

 

"My office blew up?  Great.  Peachy.  I'm not surprised really.  We're all fine.  I know who's behind all this.  Did Jim tell you?"

 

"I haven't talked to Jim.  What is going on, damn it!?"

 

"The Freedom Coalition.  George Baker."

 

"Oh, Lord!  Baker is a sociopath!"

 

"Yeah, I know.  Listen, I'm going to send Kit and Jesse out there to help you."

 

"What?"

 

"I don't think Rose ever left the area.  I'm thinking he might have crossed the border into Canada or headed down the coast, but he has to be pretty close, right?"

 

"Makes sense, I suppose."

 

"I'm going to see if Jesse can come up with some possible locations and he and Kit may be able to go in and get Jim out.  What do you think?"

 

"I think you're nuts!"

 

"Well, I'm not handing Blair over to him, and I'm not letting Blair hand himself over, so that's my next best idea."

 

"No, you listen to me, Devereaux.  I can go along with Jesse giving us some possible locations, but then it becomes a police matter."

 

"Right.  And the police have so successful so far dealing with Baker.  Captain Banks, we are going to have to kill this guy to get him off our backs."

 

"Devereaux, let the law handle it."

 

"I don't think I can do that."  The line disconnected.

 

"Damn it!" Simon hung up his own phone.  He looked at the number in his hand again.  He would call from the station where they could set up to trace the call.  He doubted it would work.  Rose would be expecting that and would take precautions, but it was worth a try.  It was his only option at the moment.  What he would say to Rose, he did not know.  He could not give the man Blair and would not if he could.  He was with Devereaux on that at least.

 

      

Alex shook his head.  "Blair, it's not going to bite you."

 

A grimace was the only response.  Alex reached out to his pupil.  "Here, give it to me."  The gun was shoved at him.  "Watch," he ordered.  He tossed the weapon from one hand to the other, spun it on one finger, even pointed it at his own chest.  "The gun itself is harmless.  The safety is on; no bullet is chambered. You are safe.  I am safe.  The gun is not a danger to either of us right now.  Now take it."  Blair hesitated then reached out.  Alex still had it pointed toward himself, and he saw the fear in Blair's eyes.  "Stop," he said before the other man could touch the gun.  "It's not a snake.  It's a pen.  It's a book you want to read.  It's an artifact that you want to examine.  It's your girlfriend's—well, maybe we don't need to go there.  Get the idea?" 

 

Blair nodded.

 

"Now, take it."

 

This time the hesitation was nearly imperceptible, but the grip on the gun was still tentative.  Alex smiled indulgently.  "Better, but not quite there yet."

 

"I'm trying."

 

"I know.  That wasn't criticism.  Give it back.  Let me show you something else."  He had not finished the sentence before he had the gun back.  "Problem number two.  You have no control.  Know why?"

 

Blair shook his head.

 

"Because you aren't holding the gun.  Rather you are letting it lay in your hand.  You have to hold it.  You are its control.  Not vice-versa.  Take control or you will do what you most dread.  You'll hurt or kill someone with it for lack of control."  He gripped the gun in his hand, turned quickly, flicking off the safety and chambering a round as he did, and fired at the target.  The bullet hit dead center.

 

The astonished look on Blair's face was laughable.  "I think you may be better than Jim."

 

"Thank you.  Point is, I have control of the gun.  I'm not going to fire wild.  I'm not going to let it fire before I'm ready and I'm not going to drop it."

 

"Then you have one up on Jim already!" Blair laughed.  "I swear, the man can not seem to hold on to his gun!  How he survived the Rangers, covert-ops, and all these years as a cop is beyond me."  Suddenly, he seemed to realize what he was saying.  His smile died, and he lowered his eyes.

 

Alex touched his shoulder.  "It's okay to remember that he was your friend, you know?"

 

"Yeah."

 

He said nothing else, so Alex continued.  "Anyway, take the gun and let me show you how to hold the thing properly so that even if Jim drops his gun, you can back him up."

 

"I'm not going back there."  The statement was quick and sharp.

 

"Okay, so even if Kit drops—no, wait, I taught him.  He'd better not drop his damn gun.  Okay, if Jesse drops his gun, you can back him up.  Pete taught Jess, so it's a possibility."  Alex grinned.

 

Blair smiled as he took the gun from Alex's hand.  Alex carefully positioned his hand around the gun.  "Now, grip it tight."  He physically turned Blair to face the target.  "Use your other arm to steady it right now.  You're not ready for one arm shooting yet.  Focus on the target."  He gave the younger man time to do as he asked.  "Fire."

 

Blair's eyes closed; the gun fired.  Blair jumped and the bullet hit the dirt several yards in front of the target.

 

"Well, that won't do, will it?"  Alex tried to keep a straight face.

 

Blair frowned.  "Sorry."

 

"Problem number one—"

 

"We're on three."

 

"Okay, problem number three, you can't close your eyes, you can't jump, you can't lower your arm."

 

"That's three, four, and five."

 

"Not really.  They are all related actually.  When you can't see, your hearing gets bumped up a notch, making the sound of the gun seem louder and you jump.  The jump affects your aim.  You have a tendency to drop or raise your arm.  See?  All related.  Oh, and by the way, I tricked you.  You took the gun with the safety off and a round chambered, and yet we are both still alive.  Now, if I have to, I'll get some toothpicks and prop your eyelids open, but that will be very painful.  Also, get used to the noise.  Accept that it's going to be loud.  Expect it, and accept it, and it won't be nearly as scary.  Hold the gun steady.  Remember, you move and the gun moves.  Got it?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Try again."

 

Blair sighed, and Alex felt like a tyrant.  Blair Sandburg was hating every minute of this.  Of course, that was as much good as bad.  Kit had been too cocky to begin with, until his little mishap, the scar from which still graced Alex's shoulder.  Caution was good.  Fear was not.  Blair was still afraid.  If Alex could get him beyond fear, he could teach him the skill.  If not, Blair would never belong in the agency.

 

"Eyes open," Alex reminded.  "It's going to be loud.  Tell yourself that and get ready to hear it.  When you're ready, fire."

 

Alex watched him swallow and heard him mutter, "Eyes open, gonna be loud."  He fired.  He still missed, the shot going wide to the right and striking a nearby tree.  "Now what'd I do wrong?" 

 

"Turned your head away, and the gun went with your head."

 

"Damn it!"

 

"Let's try again."

 

"It won't work!  I've been trying for a month at the Academy.  I never got it right there, and I won't get it right now."

 

"Not with that attitude.  Besides, your Academy teacher was not me.  Are you insulting my abilities?"

 

"No!"  It was the response Alex wanted.

 

"All right then.  Let's try again."

 

Blair turned back to face the target and raised the weapon again.  "Eyes open, gonna be loud, don't turn your stupid head," he mumbled this time, and Alex smiled at the determination on his face.  But a little help might not be a bad idea.

 

Alex discreetly moved behind him and placed his hands gently on either side of Blair's head.  "Now fire."

 

He did.  Center, just an inch above the hole left by Alex's shot.

 

"I did it."  The tone was a mixture of fear and happiness.  Still more fear than happiness, however, and Alex figured he had had enough for the day.

 

"Yes, you did.  Safety on."

 

Blair quickly complied.

 

"Hand it over.  That's it for today."

 

"That's all?" Blair relinquished the gun rather than throwing it into Alex's hands.  More progress.

 

"Yes.  Let this sink in.  Your mind will work on it, and we can try again tomorrow."

 

"Pretty bad, huh?"

 

"Oh, I don't know."  Alex removed the clip from the gun and ejected the bullet from the chamber.  "You didn't shoot yourself.  You didn't shoot me.  You hit the target once.  You did better than Kit."

 

To Alex's surprise, Blair burst into laughter.  "Well, from what he told me, I couldn't have done much worse!"

 

"Told you, did he?  The little bastard."  Alex laughed.  "Lucky for him, I don’t hold grudges.  Well, not very often anyway."

 

"Still working on forgiveness," Blair said absently.

 

"Yeah.  Sometimes, it's easy.  Sometimes, it's hard.  And sometimes, just sometimes, it's impossible.  Kit was easy.  Where does Jim fall?"

 

"I don't know yet."

 

"Well, as Jesse says, been there, done that."  Alex put his arm around Blair's shoulders even as he hoped that Blair would not ask for the explanation that he was not sure he was ready to give.  But Blair did not ask.  He wanted to, Alex could see that, but he did not and Alex was grateful.  "Let's get back to the cabin.  Pete should be back soon."

 

 

Pete was already back when Alex and Blair got back to the cabin.  As they entered the cabin, all conversation stopped, and Blair was instantly suspicious.  "What's going on?" he demanded from the three men sitting in the living room.

 

"Nothing."  Pete smiled.  It was a fake smile, the one that Blair already knew was Pete's "I'm up to something but I'm not going to tell you what under pain of death" smile.  "I'm going to be sending Kit and Jesse to do some research.  Gotta get us a plan together, you know."  Pete glanced at Alex and silent messages were sent.  It was all Blair could do not to scream at all of them.

 

"Look, I'm not stupid," he said calmly.  "What is it?"

 

"I'm just trying to find out where Rose could be.  That's all.  Jesse and Kit are going to be doing some reconnaissance.  When we have something concrete, Blair, you'll be the first to know.  I swear."

 

"I know you're lying to me."

 

"No, we're not." Kit assured him.

 

"Then I'm not getting the whole truth.  Don't tell me that I am."

 

"Blair, please, try to trust me for a little longer here."  Pete held out one hand in entreaty.

 

Kit and Jesse got up and left the room.  Blair looked at Pete for a moment longer and then followed them.  He entered the bedroom that the two had been sharing and found them packing.  "Kit, I just have one question."

 

"What?" His friend did not look at him.  He just continued to pack.

 

"Can I find the truth on the spirit paths?"

 

Kit sighed.  "You'll always find truth on the spirit paths, Blair."

 

"Then how do I get there?"

 

Kit looked at him then and gave him a sad smile.  "You already know how, Blair.  You've been there before.  You can go again.  You just have to be open and believe that you can.  And remember how to listen."

 

"That easy?"

 

"Oh yeah.  For you, yeah.  You're strong, Blair."

 

"Hey, Blair, don't worry about anything.  We'll take care of it.  Everything's going to be fine," Jesse spoke up.

 

"It would help if I knew what you were going to take care of."

 

"We're going to take care of Baker and Rose and Barnes," Kit told him.  He shouldered his bag.

 

"Well, don't forget to take of yourselves while you're at it."

 

"Sure, Buddy!  That's a given."  Jesse grinned at him as he closed up his gym bag.  The two men passed by him and Blair let them go.

 

 

"I told them to just find the bastards.  Not to go after Jim until you and I get there.  Though I did tell Kit if they found a location to go in if necessary to make sure Jim was there," Pete told Alex when they were left alone in the living room.

 

Alex nodded, reaching up to take his antique pistol off the mantel over the fireplace.

 

"We have to take them out.  That's all there is to it, because Baker will keep coming, and he's got the connections to fuck us."  Pete shook his head.

 

"It won't work," Alex said without looking up from his inspection of the pistol.  It needed cleaning.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Pete, you kill this Baker and someone in his organization will just take his place.  We can't kill them all.  We'll probably never even find the vast majority of them.  No, think about this.  Men like Baker have people behind them just waiting for the opportunity to step into his shoes.  He might have even designated someone.  That person will have all Baker's money and connections at his disposal, and we will right back where we started."

 

"Jesus, you're right." Pete sighed and leaned back into the comfortable couch.

 

"However, I think I have a solution which will be satisfactory and maybe even get us paid."  Alex grinned at him.

 

"We have to work with the cops.  Right?"

 

"If Baker goes down, his money and assets will be frozen and confiscated.  His connections will run for cover.  His organization may survive, but not unscathed and much weakened.  And if you think about it, the Pentagon and the CIA are not really very happy about being screwed over by Rose, am I correct?"

 

"Yes, you are.  I see where you're going.  Man, you gotta love outsourcing!  We offer to represent their interests in capturing Rose and Baker, and they pay us to rid ourselves of this thorn.  Oh, that's devious.  Why didn't I think of that?"

 

"Emotional involvement.  I don't know what happened with Baker and Kit, but you are as pissed about it as he is."

 

"It was just bigotry, Alex.  I don't know.  I've worked for that man before and before Kit came along, I figured it was not my problem if Baker was a jackass.  His money spent.  But he was so hateful to Kit."  Alex saw shame in his boss's face.  "Mostly, I guess I'm pissed at myself for ever taking the bastard's money when I knew what his agenda was.  And Kit, let's just say I have never seen him so mad.  It's funny.  I've seen him ignore so much shit, but he was not willing to let Baker slide."

 

"Perhaps because Baker is more than just a few insults.  Words don't hurt, but when someone has the sticks and stones and, in this case, the organization to go beyond words, he can no longer be ignored.  Or it could be the fact that he was in your office.  It would have pissed me off to find someone who hated me for no good reason cozying up to you in your office.  Probably a little of both of those."

 

"Good points.  Okay.  I'm going to go down to civilization and put this plan of yours into motion.  Even if we can't get the Pentagon or the CIA to pay us, we can get Chad and his office on board.  I'll call Banks, too and let him know that we're going to play this legal.  Or mostly legal.  He'll be happy.  You stay here with Blair.  See if you can calm him down or at least let him take out his frustrations on a target or something."

 

Alex saluted him.  "Be careful going out," he warned.

 

"Of course.  Do I look stupid to you?"

 

Alex opened his mouth to answer that.

 

"Don't!" Pete shook a finger at him.

 

Alex laughed as Pete walked out the door.   "Now, to find Blair," he muttered as the front door of the cabin closed.

 

 

Jim glared at Robert Rose as the man paced the small confines of Jim's prison.  Jim sat on his bunk and waited.

 

"So, Jim, how have you been?"

 

"Lousy, thanks to you.  How about you?"

 

"Lousy, thanks to you and Sandburg and your interfering friends.  See, Jim, I have a problem.  I can't seem to get through to Alex Barnes.  I have a feeling that only Blair could, but I don't have Blair.  Given that, my employer decided that I should acquire you, in the hopes that Blair would offer himself to save you.  But you and I both know that that is unlikely.  He left, and he's not been back in touch.  He probably won't even know that you're gone.  Unless Banks can find him.  Still, in the meantime, my employer wants a sentinel and if Barnes can't be that sentinel, then we will then look to you to fill that want."

 

"Your employer?  What?  You don't want me to know who your employer is?  That why you won't just say it?  Well, I already know.  George Baker is well known to me.  I'm a cop after all."

 

"I see.  Very well.  No more tiptoeing around this then.  You know Baker, and you know what he's capable of.  You and I could be in serious jeopardy if you don't cooperate.  I know you don't care what happens to me, but I'm betting that you'd like to live a little longer."

 

"You're right about that, but there's just one flaw in your logic.  Rose, I told you, I can't do it anymore.  I'm not a sentinel anymore.  The senses are gone."

 

Rose lowered his head for a moment then looked at him again.  "Well then, you'll probably die soon.  But not before you provide the bait and the motivation for Blair."

 

"You said it yourself, he probably won't even know that I'm gone.  Besides, he won't come for me.  Not after what I did.  And I suppose the extra bed here is for him."  He pointed up to the top bunk above him.  "You do get him and put him in here with me, he's liable to strangle me in my sleep."

 

"That may well be, but nonetheless, we'll find him, eventually.  And I think you're wrong.  He would come for you.  Then I doubt he could watch you die, anymore than he could kill you himself.  Once we have him, he won't let you die in front of him.  He's too compassionate for that.  He'll help us in exchange for your life."

 

There was too much truth in Rose's words.  It was all too likely a possibility.  Blair might hate him, but his compassion would not allow Jim's death.  "Shit," he muttered.

 

"Yes, well, we are in it, aren't we, Jim?"

 

"You're scared, aren't you?"

 

"Mr. Baker doesn't like failure.  Thus far, I have had little success.  If you could see your way clear to work with me, I might be able to keep you alive."

 

"And you?  You're trying to keep yourself alive too, Rose.  I can see it in your eyes."

 

Rose did not respond verbally, but he did not have to.

 

"I wish I could help you out, but I can't.  I know you think I'm lying, but I'm not.  No more Sentinel here."

 

Rose nodded and walked out of the room, locking the door after himself, leaving Jim alone and, amazingly, more miserable than before.  He leaned back on the lower bunk bed and punched the mattress and springs above him. 

 

 

They were armed with just a phone number and Jesse's laptop, but Kit knew that Jess had pulled off miracles with less.  Their first order of business was to get to somewhere actually in the 21st century enough to have a cyber café.  If they were traced, it would make no difference.  They would be long gone before anyone could get to them.  From there, Jess would find the origin of that call.  If anybody could, Jesse could.

 

In the meantime, Kit worried.  He could not lie to Blair, but he could not tell him the truth either. So instead, when Blair asked the right question, Kit had given him all he needed to find what they were hiding from him.  He would know about Ellison and soon.  Alex and Pete could probably handle the fallout.  Still, it was an uncomfortable situation.  Pete, never a believer, would not buy that Blair had found the answers for himself.  He would think Kit told against his orders.  Maybe technically, he had.  He could not dwell on it, however.  He had to focus now on finding Ellison.  He personally did not care for the man, but Pete did and so did Blair, though he was not ready to admit that yet.  As much as he thought it was a bad idea, Kit found himself willing to orchestrate a reunion between Ellison and Blair.  For Blair.  Never for Ellison.  But for Blair, shaman to shaman, Kit would do what he had to do.  

 

 

Alex folded his lanky body to the ground not far from his new friend.  Blair was deep in meditation and Alex, used to the sight from working with Kit, did not want to interfere.  He would stay close though, just in case Blair wanted to talk when he was finished.  Alex sighed.  What a mess.  Pete did not want Blair to know that Ellison had been taken.  At least not yet, but if he asked, Alex would have to tell him the truth.  He had always been honest with those he considered friends, and he liked the young man before him quite a bit. 

 

He even liked Jim Ellison, despite the man's reaction to him.  He could understand the reaction after all.  Once he had been like Ellison.  All black and white and two-dimensional.  It was a dangerous way to see the world, but it was not all bad either.  In fact, it tended to be surprisingly more pleasant than seeing the whole picture.  Made things easy, cut and dried, all or nothing, right or wrong.  The gray shadows were scary and confusing sometimes.  Forewarned was forearmed, however, and Alex grew to appreciate the shadows and shades.  Nothing surprised him anymore.  He liked it that way.  He wondered if Jim Ellison would ever grow to accept the things he did not want to see.  Alex had read his jacket.  He knew Ellison could see the shadows if he wanted to.  The man could not have survived some of the shit he had found himself in if he had not learned to see past the glossy surface of life.  For some reason, Ellison chose not to see.  Self-preservation probably.  Alex could imagine that with his odd abilities marking him as different, Ellison would try to hold on with both hands to normalcy in other aspects of his life.  Otherwise, it would be easy to lose one's sanity.  Alex could attest to that.  But he could also attest to that fact that ignoring reality only brought more trouble.  Acceptance and adaptation was better.  It certainly would have helped both Blair and Ellison avoid this situation.

 

Alex sighed and shook his head.  And Ellison was not the only one in that partnership with avoidance issues.  Blair had his own.  Blair's very presence here was avoidance.  The young man would eventually have to deal with his demons where Ellison was concerned or he would self-destruct.

 

 

Blair followed the wolf to the temple.  He stood on the bottom step and looked up into the doorway.  Instead of the fear and anger he felt the last time he was here, he felt safe but somehow restless.  The wolf paced and whined, and the feeling of restlessness grew in the pit of Blair's stomach.  The wolf tugged at his hand, and he turned to face it.  Gold eyes pleaded with him, and then the wolf bounded off.  Blair had to run to keep up with it.  When it stopped suddenly, Blair nearly ran past it.  The wolf whined again and walked slowly out into a clearing.  Blair followed again and nearly fell to his knees at the scene before him.  A black jaguar was trapped in a cage trap.  The animal paced frantically.  Blair reached out to it but brought his hand back quickly as a large snake struck at him from the grass.  Movement in the trees beyond the clearing, behind the cage, drew Blair's attention.  He could not see the animals there, but he could hear them, growling and snarling.

 

"Jim!"  His own voice brought him spiraling out of the self-induced trance.  Alex was sitting in front of him about ten yards away.  "They have Jim.  That's what Pete wouldn't tell me!  Son of a bitch!"

 

"I don’t know how you know that exactly, but I've known Kit long enough to know that I'm not meant to understand certain things.  Yes, Rose has Ellison.  Pete sent Kit and Jesse to try to find out where they're holding him, and he went to see if we can get some help from the other people who have an interest in seeing Rose brought down.  Pete was worried that you'd do something stupid like running off and putting yourself in the line of fire, so to speak.  But you aren't going to do that, right?  You're going to let us figure out a way to get Jim back and take these bastards down for good with minimal damage to everyone concerned, right?"

 

"Alex—"

 

"Right?"

 

Blair took a deep breath and bit his lip.  "Yeah, right."

 

"Good.  You won't do Jim any good if you aren't thinking."

 

Blair was thinking though.  He was thinking that he should not even care.  He was thinking that Jim brought this whole thing on himself, and that he was crazy for even feeling responsible.  But then he was thinking about Jim finding him when Lash was going to kill him.  And he thought about Jim taking care of him when the Iceman shot him.  And cooking his breakfast and carrying his backpack for him when he was on crutches after Quinn shot him.  Then there was the fountain.  Jim had brought him back from the other side.  Okay, so things had not been so great since, but after talking with Pete, Blair knew that a lot of that was Jim's way of trying to keep Blair out of Rose's radar.  Jim did not know that Blair was in Rose's sights all along.  Fear-based responses, he had written it himself.  Jim might be an idiot, but even an idiot did not deserve what Rose planned to do.  Perhaps idiot was too strong a word, now that he thought about it.  Jim was not stupid; he just did not think clearly when it came to certain things.  It was infuriating, but Blair knew that he had his own blind spots and could be just as infuriating, he supposed.  What the hell was he doing?  Was he actually talking himself out of being angry with Jim?  No, he was still angry and he had every right to be, but could he, in all good conscience, turn his back on Jim when he was in trouble.  The answer to that question was a definite no. 

 

Alex had been regarding him silently while he worked that out in his head.  "We will get him out of this.  Okay?"

 

"Okay."  Blair smiled tentatively.  "Thanks, Alex."

 

"Quite welcome."

 

"Can we practice a little?"

 

"So you can imagine Pete's face on the target?"

 

"I think it would help tremendously, don't you?"

 

"Oh yes, been there, done that."  Alex grinned at him.

 

 

Blair was getting impatient.  Pete had the blessing and financial backing of the Pentagon and the CIA, and Jesse had managed to trace the phone number to a cell phone owned by Millennium Research's San Francisco facility.  Jess had gotten into the computer system there briefly before the security breach was discovered but found no records indicating Jim was there.  He admitted, though, that he had not had enough time to go through everything.  San Francisco was their best bet still.  But all that had taken nearly a week to accomplish, and Blair had been plagued with nightmares about the trapped jaguar every night. 

 

At any rate, Pete had sent Jess and Kit to San Francisco to check out the research facility.  They were supposed to assess the security system and watch for Rose or Baker. 

 

Meanwhile, Blair was going slowly insane.  Actually, he had gotten quite good with a gun.  He found that imagining Rose's face on the target made it very easy indeed to pull the trigger.  He had joked about picturing Pete's face on the target, but it was just that, a joke.  He liked the man, and Pete was doing all he could to get Jim back safely.  Not to mention all he had done for Blair.  Orenda was right; Pete was slick, but he had a good heart down deep.  Way down deep sometimes, especially when money was concerned, but it seemed that Pete surrounded himself with others that would bring him back from the edge when he went too far.  Pete's joke about hiring himself another conscience might not have been a joke after all.  Still, Pete's determination to keep Blair safely tucked away and out of the loop was frustrating.  He meant well, much like Jim when he told Blair to stay in the truck, but Blair was getting very tired of all the well-meaning idiots in his life trying to shelter him from harm. 

 

Pete was gone again, and he was left to watch Alex moved serenely around the kitchen making dinner.  How could he be so calm?  "How can you be so calm?" he finally asked aloud.

 

"Anxiety is a waste of energy.  It won't make things move faster, and it's not good for the body or the mind.  You should try your meditation."

 

"No thanks.  Don't like what I've been finding there lately."

 

"Maybe you shouldn't think of it as seeing Ellison trapped, but as seeing him alive."

 

Blair was stunned for a second.  "Yeah.  You're right.  It does mean he's still alive, doesn't it?"  He was almost happy for a moment before something occurred to him.  "What if I don't see him alive?  That's always a possibility."

 

"I don't know what to tell you there.  All I can say is that I'd rather know for sure than have to wonder, and you have a way to know for sure."

 

"Yeah."

 

"After dinner though.  It's almost done."  Alex turned and grabbed a paper plate. He shoved it into Blair's hands. 

 

Blair flipped the plate over and over, mulling over Alex's words.  Maybe he could even communicate with Jim through the vision, let him know that they were not going to leave him there.  He would try.

 

 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jesse asked again as they reached the outer perimeter fence surrounding the Millennium Research Center. 

 

Kit threw down the rope he was carrying.  "Well, it's either go in there or go back practically empty-handed.  We could be here days, even weeks, before we get any clue about what's going on in there.  Pete said to go in if I had to, just not to take anybody on.  I'm going in, and I'm coming out.  They'll never know I was there.  Don't worry, this is what I do, remember?  Just get this damn electric fence turned off and those laser sensors confused for me for a few minutes, and I'll find something to let us know if we are barking up the right tree."

 

"And if you don't?" Jesse set up his laptop and his cell phone on the ground.

 

"Then we're screwed.  Truthfully, I think he's in there.  It makes sense.  This is the closest facility to Cascade and the phone call came from here.  What we really want to know is if Baker is here and how hard this place will be to take." Kit pulled his gloves on.  "Ready?"

 

"Almost."

 

"Good.  Let me know."

 

"Whoops."

 

"What?"

 

"'Violets' isn't working this time.  Think they figured out how I was getting in."

 

"Damn it!"

 

"Hold on, got an idea."

 

"What?"

 

"Well, 'violets' is a very strange choice for a password, don't you think?  Unless it has a meaning.  Like part of something.  What's the good doc's name?"

 

"Rose.  Roses, violets.  Roses are red, violets are blue?  So, what?"

 

"I'm trying other words in the rhyme.  Blue, nope.  Roses, bingo!  Holy shit.  I got Rose's personal files here!"

 

"Try to download 'em, but get me in there first."

 

"I can do both.  Got it.  Go!"

 

Kit quickly started up the fence, trusting his friend when he said the electricity was off.  He was crawling over the top when he heard Jesse swear.

 

"Kit!"

 

That was all Jess was able to say before a current of electricity coursed through Kit's body causing him to let go and topple over the fence.  He tried to land straight up, but he was off balance and stunned.  He felt his ankle give way, heard the bones break.  His head impacted with the ground seconds later.  He was only partially aware of the alarms going off as his body tripped the laser sensors.  He could hear Jesse yelling at him, but he sounded miles away.  Kit managed to turn his head at look at his frantic partner.  "Go."  He had meant to yell, but it did not come out that way.  But apparently Jess had heard him anyway.

 

"No way.  I'm not leaving you.  I can get back in and you can climb back over before somebody comes.  I'm almost there."  Jesse's fingers were flying over his keyboard.

 

"No.  You need to go.  I can't climb over, Jess.  I broke something.  Get out of here.  Get Pete."

 

"I'm not leaving you!"

 

"You have to!"  That came out louder.  "Go!  Damn it, Jess!  Please!"

 

Jesse looked beyond him, and Kit knew that someone was coming.

 

"Kit!"

 

"Jesse, please."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Then Jesse was gone, and Kit let darkness take him.

 

 

"Alex!  They got Kit!  Oh man!  They got Kit!"

 

Alex grabbed Blair as the younger man came rushing out of the bedroom.  "Wait.  Slow down.  Rose caught Kit?  Nobody catches Kit.  You saw this?"

 

Blair nodded.  "He's hurt.  I saw him as the mountain lion and his foot was caught in a trap.  What are we going to do?"

 

The front door of the cabin flew open and Pete stormed in.  "We have problems!"

 

"Kit's hurt and Rose has got him," Alex announced.

 

"How did you know that?"

 

Alex pointed at Blair.

 

"You're going weird on me like Kit, right?" Pete asked.

 

"I saw it," Blair told him.

 

"Whatever.  Alex, I want the place leveled."

 

"We'll still have to work with the law on this, Pete."

 

"I know, I know.  I don't like it, but I know.  Chad's working on getting us some help out there.  He's going to try to come himself too."

 

"Okay.  I'll need more information and a few days."

 

"Jess is sending us the info and how many is a few?"

 

"I'll know when I get the information.  I'd say at least three or four."

 

"Make it three."

 

"Pete, calm down."  Alex knew he was wasting his breath but he had to try.

 

"Alex, George Baker has Kit.  George 'all mud people must die' Baker has Kit.  He could be dead already."  Pete slumped down on the couch.

 

"He's alive," Blair spoke up.

 

"Even if I bought into this vision stuff and believed that, things can change pretty damn quick."

 

"Maybe Ellison can help him," Alex offered.

 

Pete laughed bitterly.  "They hate each other, Alex."

 

"Jim would still help, if he could.  But he's not in the best position himself."  Blair's voice trailed off as he reached the end of his sentence.

 

"Let's just get moving here, okay?"  Pete was up again and pacing.

 

"Where is Jess?" Alex asked.

 

"On his way to his folks' in L.A.  He'll be safe until we get there."

 

"Good.  Blair, help me get some things out of the basement?"

 

"Sure."

 

"Peter."  Alex waited for a response.  "Peter!"  Pete turned to look at him that time.  "Pull yourself together."

 

Pete nodded, and Alex led Blair out of the room.  He would need the explosives he had stored at the back of the property, but that would have to wait until morning.  In the meantime, he could get started on the timers.  That equipment was in the basement.  He wondered briefly how Blair would react to the crash course he was about to get on explosives construction but dismissed the vague worry.  If Blair were going to stay, he would have to be trained on it eventually anyway.  And right now, it would be something to occupy both their minds. 

 

 

"Looks like you got a new roomie, Ellison."  Jim squinted at the bright light pouring in from his open door of his prison.  A dark figure filled the doorway and tossed something on the floor.  Jim sat up and fumbled for the light switch.  He found it just in time before the door slammed shut again.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, and he spent that moment hoping that he would not see Blair on the floor when he could see properly.  Finally, he could open and focus his eyes without pain, and he turned.  It was not Blair.  He was shocked by who it was, though.  "Chase," he whispered.  He knelt by the younger man and felt for a pulse.  He was relieved to find one.  There was blood in the long black hair, and Jim had no trouble finding the source.  He had either hit his head or been hit in the head very hard.  Jim gently picked him up from the floor and put him in the lower bunk.  He moved then to the sink and wet a cloth to clean the wound. 

 

A few minutes later, Jim had cleaned him up as well as he could and put a makeshift bandage on the wound.  He then moved on to look for other problems.  He grimaced as he found that the left ankle was broken.  He looked around for something to make a split.  There was nothing short of taking apart their beds, and he had no tools to do that anyway.  He sighed and sat down on the floor beside the bunk. 

 

"Of all people, it had to be you," he grumbled.

 

The door opened then, and Jim jumped to his feet.  He recognized the man that entered with Rose from his picture on his website.  George Baker had finally made his entrance.

 

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my good buddy, Kit Chase.  Take him out and kill him."

 

"You can't!"  Jim protested quickly.  He might not like the guy, but he could not just let them kill him either.  Besides, they wanted a sentinel, and now they had one if Jim's suspicions were correct.

 

"And why can't I?" Baker grinned at him.

 

"Rose, he's a sentinel."

 

"What?"  Rose was interested, but Baker simply scoffed.

 

"Why do you think he was so focused on Blair?  He needed a guide.  Think about it."

 

"Would explain how they found the explosives I put in their room.  And perhaps his reactions to both Sandburg and Barnes.  You're sure about this?"

 

"Pretty sure."

 

"Doesn't matter." Baker stepped forward.  "He's a filthy Indian.  I don't need a sentinel that bad.  I want him dead."

 

"George!  Think this through.  If nothing else, we could use his DNA to try and isolate the gene for enhanced senses."

 

"You can do that from blood and tissue samples.  Or so you told me."

 

"Please, George, let's discuss this.  He is of more use to us alive.  I need a live sentinel!"

 

"You have Ellison!"

 

Rose looked at Jim then back at Baker.  Here it was.  Rose was about to tell the truth he had been hiding, and Jim wondered if he had ended his own life in his attempt save someone else's.

 

"Ellison has been having some difficulty with his senses without Sandburg."

 

"Well, where's his guide?" Baker pointed at Chase.

 

"If Ellison is correct, he was either functioning without a guide until he met Sandburg, or our other imposter could have been his guide.  Somehow I doubt that, however.  I think he didn't have a guide until he met Sandburg."

 

"So we would still need the Jew.  Why is it just not possible to get away from that little kike?  I cannot ask the ranks of my organization to continue to accept this mixing of the races.  Not even for a good cause.  And if he's not working, why do we need him?" Baker pointed at Jim.

 

"Ellison has been a functioning sentinel the longest period of time.  If for no other reason, genetically, we can still use him."

 

Jim listened to all this with a sense of horror like he had never felt before.  Genetically, they could use him.  Chase was probably condemned to being a human guinea pig and Jim would be a stud.  But they would be alive, he supposed.  Pete would come for Chase, for both of them actually.  Peter Devereaux had done some bad things in his life, but the man had changed, and he would never leave Jim in Rose's hands.  That was why Chase was here now.  He simply had to hope that Pete would come soon.

Part 2